


Pillow Talk

by orphan_account



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It is the first night and the last. Shinji doesn't know it, which is the only way it can be. Kaworu does know, and it doesn't matter."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Talk

It is the first night and the last. Shinji doesn't know it, which is the only way it can be. Kaworu does know, and it doesn't matter. They are lying side-by-side in separate beds, and neither are lonely.

After they rolled in the second bed for Kaworu, all the floor space disappeared. To an outsider, the arrangement must have looked crowded and provisional, but to Shinji it was just the opposite. It seemed to say to him: don't go; you can stay like this forever. 

It is easy to believe the stories you make up to comfort yourself, when you are a boy who makes up stories about so many other things. You could pretend that if you just blocked out the floor and made the room all bed, you would never have to get up again. And then by the same line of hopeful reasoning it would always be tonight, always tranquil, Kaworu always by your side.

Kaworu says, "You're thinking about something."

"I guess so," Shinji says. He doesn't know how to put these feelings into words, so he settles for an easier sentiment. "I was thinking that being around you makes me calm, Nagisa-kun."

"And happy, right?"

"Yeah."

Kaworu inhabits a silence that is all compassion. In these smaller, darker hours, he is slower to break it. "I'm happy too. Because you can be happy when I love you." 

Across the chasm between their beds, Kaworu smiles. And Shinji smiles back, instead of turning red like he used to. What would have seemed like nonsense or banality from anyone takes on special, brilliant meaning from Kaworu. He _does_ love Shinji. They _are_ happy. And Shinji could ask for nothing more, only--

"Say, Nagisa-kun."

Kaworu makes a little sound, a sort of agreeable 'mm'.

"Would you mind if I-- I mean, could I come over?" 

This is a minor risk that sets his heart pounding. But in the ensuing lapse that is already an acceptance, Kaworu shifts to make room, lifting back the covers to present the spot he'd been keeping warm. "Yes. I'd like that," he says. 

Then even the gap between their beds disappears. Shinji doesn't stop to question it; the glide of wheels beneath him is just another trick of providence. On hands and knees he crawls over, clumsy, like a frightened puppy, almost forgetting to doff his own covers til they drag around his legs. Then Kaworu's arms find him and he is safe again, he is being eased down onto his side, being wrapped up in arms and blankets. The top of his head feels the tip of Kaworu's chin, and his face glows warm against Kaworu's chest. Shinji thinks, so this is what it's like to be held by someone you like. 

And it's funny, but Kaworu smells like nothing at all.

"When I was small my mother used to hold me like this. I don't remember a lot but I remember that." Shinji lies with hands tucked against his chest; he doesn't think to return Kaworu's gesture, with all its tenderness and grace, and Kaworu doesn't need him to. "It's not like I had any huge problems when I was three. But when I was upset and she picked me up I felt like nothing bad could ever happen. That I'd never be sad again."

"When you remember that someone else is thinking of you, it's easier to forget your loneliness. It's the same for all humans, whether you're three or thirty." Kaworu strokes Shinji's hair, over and over. "A mother's love can engulf your entire being."

"But you only get one mother. No one else really cares."

Kaworu looks down, and Shinji feels the gentle dig of his chin. There comes a hum of soft disagreement. "They do care, I think. But they also carry an emptiness inside of themselves, which fuels their fears that others don't care. That's why it comes out in halfway measures. That's how Lillins hurt each other; not by staying apart, but drawing close when they're still fearful and incomplete inside. It's a dilemma."

Shinji looks up, all wide-eyed wonder. "Don't you ever get lonely, Nagisa-kun?"

Kaworu stops stroking Shinji's hair. It is hard to tell what he is thinking. (One supposes that a Lillin boy could never grasp his answer-- that the loneliness of an entire race is more vast and heavy than a human could withstand, and that it is borne for longer, and with far greater bitterness than a single spirit could tolerate.) 

Kaworu says "Yes," which is the truth. Then they lie in silence thinking about different things. The answer has surprised Shinji, because he believes that calm, happy people don't get lonely. He thinks that's the case because they are better than him. 

"Even you?" 

"Everyone with barriers to protect their soul."

Shinji lets the words sink in. He says, then: "I see. So that's the way it is." The sudden grace of those words surprises Kaworu in turn. For those few seconds Shinji might have been a mountain, or a charred tower-- a fortress that looks inwards and sees its own ruinous majesty, and simply carries on. In his contemplation he becomes perfectly alone and yet not lonely, and perfectly himself. 

_(And Tabris the Angel glimpses the worth of Lillim. Man who is alone and who has nothing, but whom for himself is enough._

_(And that is what changes his mind, in the end.)_

It doesn't last very long. Shinji is only fourteen with a heart of glass, and frightened of himself. He flails out for a sensation not unlike fear of falling, and crushes his heartbeat to Kaworu's until both are hammering in unison. He is not used to flying so high above his nature.

"I can't stand it. Why does it have to be that way? It's so unfair." His tears soak through Kaworu's shirt, warm and profuse, and Kaworu's arms are barely enough to hold his misery. Shinji is back to his old self.

"There, there." Kaworu makes soothing noises, half speech and half animal singsong. Shinji is beyond the comfort of words, and he will stay there until he falls asleep with his face still wet. This Kaworu knows. 

Kaworu knows, too, that tomorrow he will only make Shinji grieve again, in more keen and desperate ways, and just like tonight there won't be any helping it. Shinji will be betrayed, because Shinji lives for others to betray him-- Shinji the creator who rails against the bars he builds for himself, who shirks from everything that he could be. Like every human being on this planet.

But for now it is still the first night (and the last), and they are in each other's arms, and the morning hasn't come. And that should count for something.


End file.
